


Adventures in Eustachia

by sneakyroguethief



Series: Adventures in Eustachia [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 17:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15441657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneakyroguethief/pseuds/sneakyroguethief
Summary: The adventures of my druid's d&d campaign from her perspective





	Adventures in Eustachia

Naizeth stared out the window of her small room at the rundown windmill inn she’d stopped at on her way between towns. She felt unease at being away from her girlfriend-- no, wait, that was no longer the correct word-- what was the right word? Freya had told her, but she was having trouble remembering it in the Common tongue. She gave up on the word. The word itself was unimportant.

She pulled a ring out the small pouch on her hip and twirled it in her fingers. The band looked like a delicate vine with leaves adorning it, and the setting was a blooming rose with a tiny pale purple gem in its centre. The ring was the promise that they would eventually wed. After a few moments staring at it, she put it back in the pouch with her precious bits of plants and seeds that she used for her magic.

It had been her own idea to travel on her own and continue selling her herbs while Freya returned to the temple of Tal’ros, or was it the temple of Lorai? Regardless, if she was remembering correctly, they existed in the same place. But this venture she was taking was a test for herself, to see if she could stand on her own feet. Naizeth loved Freya, but she had been dependant on her for so long. Perhaps too long. She needed to prove to herself that she was brave enough to be in the world on her own, so she could proudly stand by Freya’s side instead of cowering in her shadow.

Evening was rolling around when she descended from her room and ran into a hooded woman on the stairs and unintentionally followed her down into the bar. A young blue-skinned boy and his intimidating companion swept around the bar making a bit of a commotion. Naizeth sidled up to the bar, close enough to keep an eye on what was transpiring but far enough away to not be noticed, she hoped. She heard the whistle of a tea kettle going, and soon as the barkeep looked in her direction, she flagged him down for a cup of her own. He looked at her strangely when she ordered the tea but did not say much else. It wasn’t as if she’d never had alcohol before, but she didn’t care for the taste nor the way it made her head feel.

Over her tea, she watched curiously as the boy went around the bar and read a script about people looking for adventurers to do things for them. He gathered the cloaked woman she’d run into on the stairs, a human man with a fashionable flair and well-coiffed hair, an older blue dragonborn woman who had a pashmina wrapped about her shoulders and a pair of pince-nez perched on the bridge of her snout, and a very tall, muscular orc who was even taller and more intimidating than the boy’s original follower. A shiver ran down Naizeth’s spine. She did not recognise the orc, but she wasn’t intending to stick around to find out if he was looking for her. She attempted to finish her tea quickly and turned to quietly retreat back to her room, planning to sneak out either through a back entrance or under cover of night. It wouldn’t have been the first time her clan had sent someone to find her, and she would rather be safe than caught.

When she turned on her stool, she was suddenly face-to-face with the blue boy, surrounded by his new companions.

“H-hello! I’m Tarry Tempest, Teen Tornado! Are you having trouble with dragons?”

The dragonborn woman visibly bristled at this part of the boy’s script.

“Are you in need of protection?--” the boy went on with his spiel.

Unsure of what to do, Naizeth defaulted to her own business talk, “Are you in need of some herbs, Tarry Tempest Teen Tornado?”

“Umm… what?” the boy tilted his head, taken aback by her question. There were giggles from his companions.

Naizeth presented her hand to him, gathering her focus, and from her palm sprouted a small bud of aloe.

“O-oh!”

“Yes, healing herbs. I grow them.”

“Oh, well, I have a feeling that we might need someone who is good with healing if we’re going to be adventuring, Tarry, dear,” the dragonborn woman spoke to the boy. Her voice had a kind, gentle quality to it that put Naizeth more at ease.

The boy nodded to her and then smiled at Naizeth. “What’s your name?”

“I am called Naizeth,” she answered hesitantly and looked around at the rest of the group.

“I’m Tarry,” the boy answered excitedly, his voice cracking. “And that’s Jasper,” he indicated the tall stone-skinned man who had been tailing his presence from the beginning. “And we just met French, Pip, Victor, and Elli.” He pointed around him respectively to the dragonborn woman, the human man, the large orc, and the cloaked woman. Upon a closer look, though her face was covered, the woman called Elli had what appeared to be elven features, and the boy, Tarry, had small horns the poked up through his short hair.

“A pleasure to meet you all,” Naizeth attempted a smile, her small tusks shifting awkwardly as she did. Freya had told her this helped put people more at ease.

“Come, dear, why don't you join us?” French offered. She led Naizeth to their table where she too was drinking tea.

Naizeth was beginning to relax a little, though she still wasn’t quite sure what was going on. After a few drinks, they all retired to their rooms; Victor had been insistent on everyone having their own beds.

In the middle of the night, Naizeth was awakened from her peaceful, dreamless sleep by the sound of frantic knocking on her room.

“Wake up! There’s been screaming outside!” Tarry’s voice seemed to be echoing in her mind.

She quickly dressed and exited her room, following the group of people who she’d met last night down the stairs. She stood in the doorway while few of them went out the front where they saw the owner of the establishment crying out in distress. He stood next to a cart with two King’s Guard. On the cart were two unmoving bodies covered by a sheet, one of which was no bigger than Tarry.

“I’m sorry, but this was inevitable,” a woman wearing King’s Guard armour told him. She reached out to console him while the other Guard dumped the body on the ground. The sheet fell to the side to reveal the word ‘traitor’ carved into the boy’s chest.

“Inevitable?!” he cried out in rage and jerked away from her. “He was fourteen! My boy was fourteen!”

“I’m sorry, sir, but that’s what happens when they get in with the wrong crowd,” the woman apologised again before turning and getting back in the wagon and leaving with the other Guard.

“David? What’s happened?” Tarry approached him.

David turned towards him but kept his voice low. “You been talking about getting out and adventuring. Well, my boy’s just been murdered. How about you get him some justice?” He retreated back into the bar and sank down onto one of the stools, sobbing.

Victor went behind the bar and poured him a drink, and French took a seat beside him while Pip and Jasper buried the boy’s body behind the inn.

Tarry sat down at a nearby table, seemingly too in shock to fully process what he had just witnessed. Naizeth stood against the wall, anxiously running her fingers over the coarse wood. She was unsure of what to do, of what she could do. She didn’t know these people. What could she do to comfort them?

After a while, everyone slowly trickled back up to their rooms and back to sleep, and in the morning, Naizeth wondered if the events of the previous night had truly happened. When she went downstairs, she found that the boy Tarry had made breakfast for them. Naizeth got the strange feeling that she needed to protect him. Perhaps it was that he looked to be about the same age as she had been she’d left her place of birth, and she wondered what had caused him to leave his.

Once everyone had gathered around the table for breakfast, Victor spoke up, “Well, it seems that we should be getting to Anvil Bay if we’re going to solve this murder. The boy Anthony Silvers was hanging out with someone named Hasdrec, so we should probably investigate him. David also mentioned that Anthony was quite the bookworm so if there’s a library, we should see if he frequented it and what he was reading. We don’t know what all he was involved in, other than it was supposedly a bad crowd, whatever that means. If we leave now, it should take us maybe a day and a half to reach Anvil Bay, I believe.”

“Should we leave a note for David, telling him we’ve gone?” Tarry suggested.

“Indeed. We should let me him sleep,” French agreed.

Victor pulled out a scrap of parchment and a pen and scrawled together a note and left it behind the bar. “Shall we?”

After everyone had packed up their belongings, they began the journey on foot to Anvil Bay.


End file.
